Black stars on white, thumb and index on lips rolling with your sports yoyo and red lipstick. all your visible veins are non-passive, as I view from your thick lenses behind retrospective.
That filthy container where you're sipping liquid rebellious crown you're sporting is quite cursive. hideous mask can't contain your heavy hormones, when I caught you peeking on the corner wear-ons.
From the corner spot, I can't think of any jargons, Of words nor dragons I could use, money or mansions I'm just a steady monkey of potential and future, Eagled eye but not haunting or never sure.